


The Queen's Tournament

by AshleysWrittenWords



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama & Romance, F/M, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, It'll make sense, Mutual Pining, Old Fic, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Secret Identity, cross between oot and tp, idk man i was sick at the time and hopped up on cold medicine, it explains itself, lightly edited now, probably typos left, sheik but not, weird au, zelink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26737459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshleysWrittenWords/pseuds/AshleysWrittenWords
Summary: Princess Zelda is ready for her coronation. Her court, however, is not. In an effort for a King, the ministers pressure the crown princess into agreeing to marry whoever champions in a tournament any man in the kingdom can participate in.---Old fic that I edited to post on ao3.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 126





	1. Of Arrows,

**Author's Note:**

> Hold up, I can explain.
> 
> I made this up in a fever dream a year ago so you can't blame me for the cross-game lore! I'm taking no responsibility and it is now an au. :o)
> 
> Enjoy!

The string was pulled taunt and she steadily aimed the arrowhead above her mark. Feet parted, arm steady, trust your gut and don’t overthink. She breathed in slowly and released the string. The arrow whizzed through the air with a sharp _thwick_. The arrowhead hit its mark squarely on the bullseye. She lowered the bow to get a good look at her marksmanship and a smile upturned her previous frown.

“You get better every day,” a voice said behind her. Zelda jumped; it was nearly right in her ear. She turned to see Link looking at the target past her. She lazily observed him and turned back, her smile thinner now. Link had been teaching her archery among other arts of combat for over a year now. It was a good expenditure of her energy, especially as of late. She shook her head and muttered, “I hate when you do that.” Then, she added, “Not good enough.”

The early morning sun painted the sky a light pink and blue hue. Link had gone to gather the arrows from the target and was walking back, making note of the dullness of the arrow heads. “Seems like it’s never enough. Are you looking to start a war, Princess?”

She only took the arrows from him and shrugged without meeting his gaze, “So what? Maybe I am.”

Link watched her as Zelda fiddled with stuffing the arrows into the quiver. He was only half-joking. The princess had insisted they practice three times more than they were before. Zelda wasn’t acting as she normally did. Her usual excitement to learn dissipated into an odd obligation. It was her only free time away from her court, so it shouldn’t surprise Link that she wanted to increase it. Though her demeanor has changed and now she was going out of her way to train without him like a woman possessed. To say that she was worrying him was an understatement.

“I should go,” Zelda spoke without raising her eyes. As the sun rose higher the threat of her maids gossiping rose as well. They both knew that. The hero and the Crown Princess meeting secretly in the dark – he could see it on tabloid headlines within the next couple days.

“Can you at least let me know what’s troubling you?” Link had almost gone to grab her hand as she turned away, but his reach withered to his side instead.

Zelda paused and swiveled back with eyes studying the red clay beneath them. They flickered to his for a moment – defiant as ever, but with a tinge of something sadder. “You should know. You of all people should know.”

Guilt ate at him as he watched her saunter off. Her dark trousers would soon be replaced by an elaborate gown and her long-braided hair with something other. Link diverted his eyes elsewhere, scorning himself for looking at her like that. If anyone had seen him…

No one did. No one was ever out training here unless it was Zelda and himself.

Well, now it was just Zelda apparently.

A feeling of obsoletion shocked him and he pushed it away, eyeing the off-kilter marks left by Zelda’s morning training. It wasn’t all perfect. She still had a long way to go. But Link would be lying to himself if he was to say she wasn’t a natural. Zelda had talent. All she really needed was a little guidance and muscle memory. Link hummed to himself, a small smile gracing his lips. Once she’s done that for herself, then he’d be obsolete. And that suited him alright. It would mean he did his job.

Maybe she’d even dismiss him?

He had helped her defeat Zant. The castle had finally returned to normal. What else was he to do here? Link had offered advice to straighten out her forces and improve defenses. Zelda had followed through without much question. Really, what else was there to do?

Her advisors had insisted she get married. Zelda had resisted each time. When she finally requested that the court ordain her as queen, they were beyond irritated by her resolve. The ministers had compiled a list of suitors and she had rejected them all, so they rejected her request. Goddesses, she had been mad. That night she woken Link up and nearly pulled his arm off with how much she demanded to let her into the armory. He was barely able to throw a shirt on before trying to smooth over her anger.

“You can’t just murder your court,” he had said, that seemed to get through to her enough to the point where she could explained what had happened.

It was the first time he had seen her cry. It still made him frustrated to think about it. Zelda had always seemed untouchable, the human embodiment of a queen. Why they refused to even consider her request was unfathomable to Link. She was level-headed, brilliant, and more than capable. In that moment, she was so vulnerable. He wanted desperately to protect her. Shield her from whatever was hurting her. But he couldn’t. This wasn’t Zant or some formidable enemy threatening her life. It was politics, a world Link wasn’t well-equipped in.

Zelda would be forced to marry soon if she wanted the throne. Hyrule was becoming unsettled without an absolute in power and the mourning period for Zelda’s father, the King, had long come to pass. And heaven knows the Princess was too stubborn to step down from a challenge.

When the Crown Princess had come to an agreement with the council in regards to marriage the kingdom was shocked and a heavy sense of burden fell upon the Hyrulian champion.

* * *

Zelda was bored.

Her signature started blurring into scribbles as she signed off on another legislature proposal. She had been at it for hours now. The door to the office opened and closed like clockwork while the stacks on her desk grew to towering heights. It seems like the lords and ministers were particularly excited about preparations today. Which meant they were spending more of the crown’s money. The weight of her head cramped her hand and she made a face at Impa who stood at the side of the room, busying herself with proofreading.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, making a gesture to the Princess’s desk. Zelda stretched her arms upward, groaning, “Whatever has possessed the bureaucracy to write this much?”

“Your impending coronation. Remember?”

Zelda scowled, “At what cost, Impa?”

“As much as it takes to get you in a white dress. What did you expect when you agreed to that ridiculous competition?” Impa had been resentful since she had learned of the idea. She thought it was patronizing to the family’s legacy. That wasn’t completely wrong in Zelda’s eyes, but the gears in her head were turning.

“That it will be exciting.”

Another signature and she laughed at her advisor’s grimace.

“You agree with the rest that I must wed myself to someone. Courting is a spectacle for my court therefore I don’t see why finding a capable suitor shouldn’t be a spectacle that my people can’t ogle at as well. Men from different lands fighting for the honor of being king! It’s something out of a theatrical play.”

“And you’re comfortable with it?” Impa said, meeting Zelda’s eyes.

The Princess squirmed in her seat, feeling exposed. Impa has known her since she was a child, even advising her father for a time. No wonder she could read Zelda like a book.

“I never said I was going to attend,” she muttered.

Impa straightened and seemed about to burst from outrage. “Zelda-!”

“Your Highness?”

Impa and Zelda looked at the door in alarm. The squabbling between them squandered by the interruption. Link stood in the entryway in the attire of the royal military. To Zelda, it was still strange to see him with a lack of green.

“Is this a bad time?” he spoke slowly, seeing the faces of the Impa and the Princess herself.

“No!” Zelda said suddenly before her advisor could speak. “No, it’s a perfect time.”

Link looked at her for a long moment. He was always more formal with others around. But now, his eyes were soft and she averted her gaze at the small stack of papers he put on her desk. He had a knack of seeing beneath the crown, the jewels, and the gowns. It was a skill she had come to both scorn and adore.

“A lord came by and asked that I give you this for approval. I don’t remember his name,” he muttered the last part.

“Did he say what it was? If it’s a revised bill about the candle budget I will march into the House of Lords myself,” Zelda flipped through it, pausing at a list of names.

“Ah, no,” Link masked a laugh with a cough, “It’s the names of who will take part at the suitor event.”

Zelda looked up at him in surprise, “Already?”

“Is it not next week?”

She looked back down that the list, scanning over the names and feeling his blue eyes watch her. Some she recognized, most she did not.

Nodding more so to herself, “It is… it is.”

Zelda felt ill.

Any of these could be the next King of Hyrule. Suddenly, her plan felt flimsy. So many things could go wrong. The list spanned two pages and she wondered how the few days of competitions could weed out this many people.

Unceremoniously, She dipped her pen into a pot of ink and paused just above the dotted line. Her eyes drew to the last name that seemed to be scribbled in at the last second. Her brows knitted together as she read it over several times just to be sure: Link Forester.

Zelda caught him as he slipped out of the door.

She scrawled her name on the document and handed it over to her advisor with a clouded mind.

* * *

Zelda had been far too occupied with preparations that her time to train was suffocating by the day. Despite that, she felt it to be more important – so she did what she did best: make time.

She practiced in her room and outside in the late hours of the night, memorizing the guard cycles to assure she wasn’t caught. It was taxing on her body, but her mind felt at peace. At peace meaning more room for determination than ever before.

The event was publicized to the public as being a romantic affair. The inns around the castle were packed with travelers from abroad for tomorrow’s processions. Even if it turns into a worst-case scenario, at least the public’s morale has recovered. They were calling it The Queen’s Tournament in the papers. The notion brought a smile to her face. So, they did believe her to be the true queen. That was a comforting reality.

Impa had just left after finishing her last attempt to sway Zelda’s decision. It was for naught, there was an agreement she signed. Her word was given. Even if she wasn’t there in person, the tournament would still go underway. It would worked in her favor.

Zelda approached her mirror and pulled the pins from her hair. Her locks spilled down her back and she waved a hand. Like a mirage, the features her mother passed to her faded into a gruffer appearance. Her skin wasn’t as smooth, her hair far darker, and her eyes of a different shape. Zelda was out of practice in her magic.

Because Link had seen her do this once before, she would need a different mask. As the thought crossed her mind, she felt overwhelmed – flustered. He did realize it was to win her hand in marriage, right?

Of course, he did. He had to know. The papers speculated who would be in attendance as the list wouldn’t be publicized until tomorrow. Cover after cover was gossip and rumors of Link being amongst them. Before she had scoffed and threw them in a bin. But now she stood in the mirror, still jarred by the news almost a week later. Zelda wasn’t naive, she knew he was more capable than the rest of the men she saw on that list. That stupid list with his wobbly handwriting on it. Her people loved him for all he had done, all the things he still does for them – for her.

Zelda looked back into the mirror to see her foreign features were fading with her wandering mind. She grew frustrated. No longer was she an adolescent child. She was a formidable mage, was she not? Zelda could wield the power of the Goddess if she chose to. A queen doesn’t pine after people.

No, she wasn’t pining. Princess Zelda was simply taking note of her competition for her own hand.

* * *

Perhaps he had been too hasty.

Link being too hasty? No, he was calculated. Precise. Thoughtful.

He stared at the attendant who stared right back.

“Link Forester?” Link repeated, unsure if he had heard him correctly. The match in the man’s head seemed to spark and he fumbled with his quill, “Right, right. Of course, the Hero of Hyrule.”

Link cringed but nodded respectfully. He hated that title. It was all too formal. The man crossed a name out and waved him in. The building was recognized as an outdoor theater, but now it was a coliseum of sorts. The stage was deconstructed, and they were still moving targets into the empty space. It was practical, perhaps the only building in the capital that could house the tremendous amount of people that were expected. It was still early morning, yet there were lines of people waiting to be received.

He was led into a holding space that was being used for storing the props over the next few days. Excess targets, bows, and training dummies to name a few. Link felt excited. It had been a while since something serious was at stake. Sure, it would be far better if no one had to marry the Princess.

He unbelted the baldric from his hips and set the scabbard against the crate, promptly hoisting himself up to sit on it. The gazes from the men in the room felt demeaning, but he retreated into his own head. Only a couple more hours of this, then he’d do it all over tomorrow.

Zelda said to him that all she wanted was to choose. There was too much in her life she had no control over. Of those things shouldn’t be the person she would spend the rest of her life with. Link stared at his hands, remembering when she announced the tournament to the press. Her speech didn’t waver, and her head was held high. However, he could see past that. He could see the way her eyes told him she was defeated.

It was when they finally told her they would vote her off the throne if not for this silly competition. She was hurting, bruised.

So a week ago, when the lord was thrown off by Impa’s loud voice in the royal office and tossed his chore to Link it felt natural that he’d write his name in too. Not to win her hand, but to give her the choice she wanted. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind; he would win and nothing in the contract said that the winner had to marry the Princess.

The door shut loudly and someone else walked into the room. At least the attention was finally off Link. The interest in analyzing his competitors overwhelmed his thoughts and he obliged. There were several lords’ sons in the room, not that he knew their names, their clothes betrayed them. They were far too neat and proper to have witnessed any harsh training. Link made a categorized list in his head of the people his eyes met.

On the far end, there was a group of soldiers he recognized. None of whom he interacted with on a daily basis, which was probably for the best as they would be familiar with his fighting style. Then, a Goron and a few odd Zora. Among the rest was a large Gerudo man that sat with some other boisterous men.

Link vaguely recognized him as some kind of politician that visited from abroad from time to time. They seemed to have been drinking. Nevertheless no one seemed threatening, but there was a Hylian man that Link kept coming back to. He was set apart and near the opposite end of the room. Dark hair and a thin build. He wasn’t anything intimidating, but he was odd. Link felt a sense of distrust. He was alone, too. The difference was Link had a reason to be.

A bell chimed and the doors opened to the public. It wouldn’t be long now until the first event of the tournament was underway. The topic of the day’s competition was announced: Archery.

* * *

Zelda had snuck her alias onto the list last second and took her seat on the far side of the room. Having the signature of the Princess was certainly useful. 

It was a surprisingly long wait, but soon enough they were all lined up to be introduced to the stadium. Link was two people in front of where she stood and he seemed to have noticed her. She glanced down at her hands to reassure herself. No, her masking spell was still strong. Zelda felt giddy. It was amusing to be plain and blissfully normal. Even more so at a tournament centered around herself. No one had outright spoken to her, so she didn’t need to exercise an excessively deeper voice. She was never good at voice changing spells and it wasn’t the time for a failed attempt.

Link was asking if contestants could bring their own bows. The man handing them out denied it, insisting standard use had to be used. He sighed and set the bow he usually used during our training to the side. Zelda felt somehow touched by the familiarity. She hoped he didn’t expect her to be watching in the box with Impa.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” The man in front of her laughed as he spoke to Link, who turned just barely.

“No. Not really.”

She took a bow, trying to make it look like she wasn’t interested. It wasn’t anything special, they were standard wooden bows.

The man ahead spoke again despite Link’s disinterest, “What do you do, kid?”

“I, uh,” he started, “I’m a goat herder.”

Zelda raised a brow as the guy began roaring in laughter. Link didn’t react much, just shrugged his shoulders. The line started moving towards the open doors that led to the open stadium. Introductions were being announced and the crowd was deafeningly loud. It made her square her shoulder, Zelda had never shirked from an audience and she certainly wouldn’t with this body either.

“A goat herder marrying the Princess? Hey, at least you’re shooting your shot, boy.” 

Link stepped out into the sunlight and the announcer boomed into Zelda’s ear.

“Link Forester, the Hero of Hyrule!” The said hero visibly winced at the screaming audience. She knew how much he resented the title but seeing the berating man freeze at the words made her lips form a secret smile. He had been so affected he walked robotically out. The acoustics of the former theater were amplifying.

Zelda’s own introduction was small and plain. She was Yoland Romerok. A name she made up at the door. In the least, it was better than Shiek. It was true that she wasn’t good with names, goddesses help her children.

There were three lines in the sand and she followed the group to the closest, situating herself in front of her own target. A handful of arrows sat in a small barrel an arm’s reach away. There were about fifty suitors that lined the edges of the stadium, it matched the list of names. The announcer rattled off typical archery rules for those unfamiliar.

It was rather long. There would be three trials and between each, the suitors would be disqualified. The distances of the trials would be as follows: 25 meters, 50 meters, and 90 meters. The time would be set at ten minutes and the competitor would have that set amount of time to shoot all arrows in the barrel until scores were tallied.

The ten minutes began counting down after that. Yoland eyed the barrel and nocked an arrow. The bow’s string wasn’t too different from the tautness of her own on the training grounds. The target was closer than what she was used to. A perfect opportunity to try out this bow. The first was off and landed just above the bullseye. She caught her breath and glanced at her neighbors who took their time as well.

The man who had taunted Link had missed his mark completely.

The next two arrows hit the eye and the last landed lower than she meant. Zelda smiled but humbled herself with a glance at the next two lines behind her. The ten minutes went by slowly, but eventually the judges walked by making marks. Several names were announced to leave, Yoland not being one of them. The man beside her walked away with heavy steps. There was an applause as a team of people came by to move the barrels and collect the arrows.

During this time, she noticed a rather large man. Zelda’s stomach sunk. Lord Ganondorf had made the trek from the desert to represent his people. She diverted her eyes when he looked her way and swallowed thickly. He had asked Her Highness for her hand over the span of several years. A chill ran up her spine, she must have missed his name when she grew distracted by Link’s own.

The next trial was a distance Zelda felt more comfortable with. All four struck the red bullseye. Another set of men left the field. It made her wonder if they thought this competition was a different form a combat or perhaps simply nerves. The last competitor that separated herself and the hero left quietly. Zelda rubbed her sweaty hands onto her trousers and wondered briefly if Link thought they looked familiar.

Speaking of which, she stole a glance his way before the last trial. He was looking past her, up at the stands. She followed his gaze and was met with the box the Princess was supposed to sit. Impa was instead standing there, looking rather impatient. Link ran a hand through his hair and pulled the longest locks into a ponytail. Sweat dripped down the side of his face.

Zelda frowned at the increasing temperature of her cheeks and blamed it on the heat. She scolded herself, checked her hands to assure the spell wasn’t affected, and turned her attention to the reset time. 90 meters. She had practiced this.

“The last trial commences!” The announcer said boisterously. The stadium roared with the same enthusiasm. With a nocked arrow in her grasp, Zelda reminded herself of what she needed to prove to her court and the ministers that constantly doubted her intentions. She could hear Link already hitting his mark and remembered what he had told her about emotions. Don’t let it guide your arrow. Instead, channel it into energy. When she breathed in, she held the breath in her lungs. Her hand pulled the string taunt and she watched the target with indifference.

The arrow hit the edge of the red circle.

The next two arrows hit around the same area. A part of her worried they would knock the first to the sand. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case and the last hit above the cluster. Yoland Romerok leaned back to observe the target, then the competitors nearest. An older man hit the edges of the target. Link was already observing her own work, he hadn’t done too shabby himself. His gaze at her almost made Zelda want to be smaller. He was staring with a strange look in his eye before he nodded and looked away.

That was weird.

Zelda surveyed the remaining suitors. Fifty was narrowed down to fifteen or twenty. The masking spell was still working perfectly, but the eyes of Impa from above were drilling into the back of “Yoland Romerok”. There were a series of announcements to close today. Tomorrow’s theme was amongst them.

“As we all know,” the announcer shouted through the stadium. It was lucky for him that the structure was built with acoustics in mind because the tremor of shouts and hollers from the people were almost overbearing. “Our princess has a love for horses. What would be a better fitting contest for her heart than chariot racing?”

The Princess’s heart leapt with the roaring crowd. A chariot race? She was kept in the dark about the competitions just as much as the rest of the stadium. Archery was merely an educated guess and perhaps hand-to-hand combat.

Horses, however? Her thinned lips quirked upward. This was Princess Zelda’s forte, after all.

* * *

The cheering was odd. His name in other people’s mouth like it was their favorite word. It was, in the least, distracting. It was a hot day too, which added to the sweat. There were several instances where he would wipe his bow off with his shirt. This hadn’t happened with Zant. Midna would surely have made fun of him for being overly nervous.

Zelda wouldn’t have reacted much different, he knew that. She liked to poke at him when she could. He knew she’d perform great with a challenge like this. The Princess had always had an affinity with archery and only ever needed a little guidance. Intrusive thoughts born of stress had always impeded her in perfect accuracy.

Link blew a breath out. Zelda wasn’t there, which eased his worries. The look she had given him after he had given her that list of suitors was indescribable. He harbored hope that maybe it was a good look of disbelief, not one of realizing a worse situation. Maybe she would understand if he explained. Even when he had gathered up the little courage he had for the situation she had grown scarce. Her days either spent in her chambers or her office.

He followed the rest back to the same room they had left earlier. One of the judges from the archery tournament came by to awkwardly shake his hand with fervent praises, “It’s an honor, Sir Link.”

Link swallowed and offered a smile, “Oh, thanks.”

The man lumbered away and started shouting about what time they had to be there the next day. Once Link began wondering what kind of race would take place the same small Hylian walked by him and towards the exit. He had given Link a weird look during the competition before the 90 meters that rubbed him the wrong way.

Obviously, Link hadn’t taken a liking with this one. Not that he had given approval with anyone there. Every time he saw a new face, he imagined Zelda with a new ring on her finger dismissing him of his duties. Not many of these fantasies included her being happy.

“What’s your name?” Link asked. He already knew, but he wondered what the man would sound like. What he didn’t expect was for Yoland to jump as if someone had accused him of murder. He looked young, younger than Link.

The man cleared his throat, “Yo-Yoland.”

Link raised an eyebrow. He didn’t look like this during the tournament. Yoland acted like he had a score to settle with someone, not like a boy being caught stealing.

“What’re you looking to do here?”

Yoland furrowed his dark brows. “Same as you.”

Link scoffed, “Doubt it.”

“What?”

They were interrupted for a moment by shouting, but Yoland looked irritated now. Link went on, frustration bubbling, “You looked angry out there. Who are you angry at?”

It had crossed Link’s mind that perhaps someone who wanted to disrupt the crown would compete and end up using the tournament for nefarious reasons. The vetting in the registration process was nearly nonexistent. There was a small competitor fee and an application. That was all. The thought of Zelda having to go through this in the first place already angered him. If she were to be harmed by the outcome, Link would feel at blame. How was he going to protect her when the threat is her husband?

Yoland narrowed his eyes, “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

Link gave him a long, cold stare. “Look,” he spoke lowly, “I don’t think you should be here. There’s something wrong and I will find out what it is.”

Yoland stared back and laughed bitterly to Link’s surprise. “Do you do this to all the suitors, Hero?”

“No, just you.”

“I’m honored,” he spat, turning on his heel. “Good luck.”


	2. Chariots,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad words are afoot.
> 
> I forget everything I write after I post it so the last line did make me laugh.

The maids had come in to draw a bath and left. Horseback riding had been a better excuse than she thought. Dirt clung to Zelda and made her look awfully unroyal. Thankfully, no one had the mind to ask questions. The court knew of her infamous distaste for suitors and her absence was somewhat expected.

Impa barged through the door with words spilling from her mouth, startling Zelda from her otherwise pleasant lavender bath.

“What were you thinking?!” Impa berated the Princess, her hands flailing. It was always like that when she was reprimanding her for something or other. Zelda made the woman so baffled that words alone couldn’t contain her frustrations.

“I can explain-” she started, only to be interrupted by the exasperated sounds of her advisor.

“When I taught you to use your blessings, I didn’t mean for this!”

Zelda clamored down and watched as Impa paced the room speaking out a frustrated monologue.

“What will the court think? The public? And not to mention the men who signed up for this ridiculous thing. There were lords, Zelda. What if – goodness – and you won’t win. Surely. I cannot fathom what – What could possess you to –”

“Why wouldn’t I win, Impa?” Zelda said after she calmed herself. Her expression was supposed to be assuring, but from the bubble bath it looked more childish than anything. For a moment, Impa saw the little girl she helped raise. No more was she small, defenseless and motherless against a cold world.

Impa looked resigned and voiced it in a sigh, “After today? …You have a chance.” She threw her hands up and shook her head, an internal war with herself came to a head. “I worry for you, child.”

“But do you trust me?” The Princess caught her advisor’s attention. Zelda sounded like her father. Bold, confidence making the most ridiculous notions feasible.

“I do. My concern is that you will get hurt,” Impa pulled a vial from the pouch she carried. It was thin and a pink color glowed from it. “Take this before bed. In the morning you will have enough energy to strengthen your spell for the next event.”

With wide eyes, Zelda took it from Impa into her hands. The vial was a rejuvenation potion and would cause her fatigue from the spell to dissipate by morning.

“Thank you, Impa. I’m indebted to you,” she said softly, a smile overtaking her features.

“Nonsense. I know I’m unable to stop you. I should at least help you avoid embarrassing yourself,” Impa retreated to the door and turned momentarily. “Get yourself cleaned. You look like you spent the afternoon rolling in dirt.”

Zelda laughed breathlessly and sunk deeper into the soapy water as the door shut. The vial was placed on the same stool that her night gown sat on. A warm feeling surged in her chest and she felt deep appreciation. It felt nice for someone else to know her little secret. She always believed that the weight of secrets was greater than their worth. A part of her wanted to tell Link after the competition today, then chickening out only to end up having him stop her.

Her eye twitched in remembering the intonation of his voice and the sharpness in his blue eyes. She didn’t realize Yoland looked angry. If anything, Link did. It was strange to see that in him. He was usually so reserved. He could break down her walls so easily. This different side of him asked her of her intentions, pressing for answers that should have been self-evident.

He was supposed to be who he was to Zelda. Kind, well-meaning, brave, and everything those silly maids gossiped about. Everything he exuded to the Princess. The said woman’s face burned at the thought of his voice in her ear as she cleansed the grime off her pale, soft skin. His breath. The way Link’s hands lingered above her hips as he corrected her stance.

Zelda breathed in sharply at the cold air as she stood from the steamy water to grab a towel. Evidently, this wasn’t the case. Maybe the Link she saw wasn’t who he really was. The unsaid accusations humored a darker part of herself.

A bitter laugh rose in her chest just as it did then. If he wanted a villain, he’ll get one.

* * *

The mask went on easy today. Yoland Romerok didn’t look much different than he did the day prior, the only difference was that he was adorned in the appropriate riding boots. Other than that, he still had the thick black braid and narrow eyes that hid Zelda’s own bit of mischief. She wondered dully if Link felt threatened by Yoland’s presence because he seemed to have his attention when the door was opened.

Yoland Romerok matched the Hero of Hyrule’s glare. An idea dawned on Zelda and she strolled over to the crate he was sitting on. “Good morning,” Yoland said indignantly, plopping down into a seat on the floor beside it.

“What are you doing?” the blond man said, peering down from the crate. He looked more confused than annoyed.

She didn’t bother looking up. “I’m sitting. What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer. Finally, Zelda looked up hoping to seem bored. His expression satisfied her. Link looked frustrated as he tried to place the person in front of him. Despite that, he didn’t respond and refused to for the rest of their time sitting together. They had called for the competitors to line-up before the event was officially started as they had yesterday. Link jumped from the crate and when they began organizing the line. Zelda was thrilled as she learned that Yoland would be standing behind the coveted hero.

“So, what are you doing here?” Zelda tried speaking lower. If she hadn’t had so much at stake she would have giggled, a conceited grin covered her features instead.

Link sighed out of exasperation, obviously not thrilled with the placement. His tone communicated no different.

“What do you think I’m here for?”

Yoland quirked his lips to the side, looking like he was mulling over the many options. “Maybe make a quick change to your title, perhaps? King does sound a lot more appealing than hero.”

An icy blue glare cut Zelda’s taunting short.

“I would never-,” he closed his eyes and touched his hand to his forehead. “Never mind.”

Zelda blinked at him with an eyebrow raised. The line was moving fast than she had previously realized and taking a quick peek to the front made her realize why. They were moving people out in pairs onto individual chariots that were attached to horses.

The chariots looked less like glorified military accessories and more like wagons they had taken on the street and halved. “This is the best they could come up with?” Link muttered under his breath. Underneath the mask, she had to agree. They had simply said that horses would be involved yesterday, so Zelda had assumed what Link had – horseback riding. Perhaps another archery competition.

As their time came, Zelda took the opportunity to examine the equipment it contained. A short sword, a longsword, and a bow along with a quiver of arrows. One look at the horse told her that this wasn’t the type of race she was expecting. The horses were draped in armor and Zelda surmised that she may want a suit of her own. With a pull of the reigns, the chariot jolted forward and she allowed the horse to lead her to the rest of her peers.

The makeshift arena seemed larger with the absence of the targets. In their place was an outline of the track. It was wide and water barrels lined the border.

Adrenaline jolted her nerves as the announcers began rattling off to the screaming audience. Zelda glanced at Link who was looking ahead with a hardened expression. Then she looked behind her, immediately regretting it. Lord Ganondorf stood in his chariot several pair behind her with a smile that could sharpen knives. A quick flashback to her time in military history courses were evidence enough why he looked like a bull in a china shop. The Gerudo had invented chariots centuries ago and they had been proven to be quite effective time and time again.

A deep breath in and out. She narrowed her eyes and forced herself to attention. There was no time to quit now. A score of men were handing out leather helmets as if that would make a difference. “The competitors are to not outright harm the horses as they are the crown’s property after all,” the announcer said cheekily, this garnered a laugh from the stands. The man in front of Zelda seemed to be weighing his options because he was speaking out every bit of anxiety to the world.

“Shut up!” the man beside him hissed just as the next set of rules were given.

“In conjunction with that, competitors are given the choice to attack the chariots of their rivals. However, direct combat is strictly prohibited in the arena.”

As the details were rattled off, she realized it was a formal way of saying that there was a fair possibility that men could fall from their shoddy wagons and be stampeded.

“Brilliant,” Yoland muttered, watching as the same suitor before her walked from his own chariot and towards the exit. He was moving fast, but people in the stands were beginning to take notice. The crowd began booing excessively. Archery had narrowed the competition from seventy to twenty-two, now the race was narrowing that number further before it even started.

Zelda gripped the reigns in her hands and widened her stance. She had ridden in one before for a parade in Gerudo Town. Another time during a short outing and even then, they didn’t look like the ones constructed for this event. A Gerudo woman walked into view with a colored flag. The people in the stands started stomping in anticipation, it reminded her of a sports game. She drowned it out.

Her heart pounded. The woman raised the flag in the air.

Focus.

The flag dropped through the air and chaos irrupted. Zelda whipped the reigns down harshly and the chariot jolted forward. Horses around her whined and she pulled ahead. The wagon let Zelda feel every bit of the ground. Each pebble she ran over gave the entire rolling death trap a jolt. She pursed her lips and bent her knees more, hoping for more balance.

Spurring the horse faster, she covered the ground of in front of her and took advantage of the now vacant spot. Her eyes darting behind her when she heard a scream as the first turn came to a head. Lord Ganondorf had wedge a long sword between him and his opponent. To her horror, he cut one of the traces that connected the horse to the chariot. The rider lost control of the horse as he was flipped out of his transport. She swallowed a yell and promptly turned to face forward before seeing anything more.

Her horse wedged her own chariot in between the two in front. Glancing to her left it was apparent that Link had gotten the same idea to gain ground early on. He was looking at Yoland with a bewildered look.

Zelda grinned, “Pardon me.”

With a short yell to the horse and a hiking of the reigns, the animal drug her forward. She weaved upward in the line. Zelda could see it now; she was near the front. A piece of her felt bad and she promised herself that she would find this horse afterward, but now wasn’t the time to make amends.

There was commotion behind her and she glanced that direction. Yellow eyes snapped to hers and Zelda gasped. How could he possibly gain that much ground that quickly? Link just behind her was pulling at an arrow stuck in the side of his wagon, uncomfortably close to the wheel. The next turn allowed her to pull ahead, but she ended up finding herself slammed against an older fellow. He looked at her in surprise and drew the longsword. She yelped as he aimed for the reigns, causing her to pull back and slow the horse. Zelda cursed.

A smug looking Link passed her, but he was constantly turning.

“Heyah!” a deep voice yelled and a large, belligerent Gerudo appeared next to her. His lip was upturned in a scowl as if bothered by her presence alone. He jerked his reigns to the side, colliding into her wagon. Zelda screamed and hung onto the sides. Her feet lost their place and for a moment she feared she would fall out. The motion spooked her horse.

With wide eyes, she watched as Ganondorf drew a blade and aimed a slash at her own trace like he did to the last man who crossed his path. Zelda passed the reign to one hand, grabbing the short sword and prayed it was light enough. She gritted her teeth and crossed his sword with her own. A loud clanking sound was heard. The crowd roared.

“Pathetic!” the lord bellowed at her, slashing his blade down. Zelda ducked and the hilt of his sword bounced off the wooden side.

With her distracted, he barred down onto the trace. The chariot jerked and Zelda shouted. She popped back up and watched the leather tear. An arrow smacked into the front of Ganondorf’s wagon and Yoland stared wide-eyed at Link, who dropped the bow for his reigns and pulled forward. The offended man was angry and went to reciprocate the attack.

An idea sprouted in her head and Zelda stared at the wheel of Ganondorf’s chariot. Her grasp tightened around her short sword, she moved the horse closer to his. Holding the blade like a spear, she gathered her strength and slammed the short sword into the wheel. It wedged with the motion and the wheeled stalled.

Zelda watched with bated breath as the aggrieved lord was engulfed by the stragglers and disappeared. Her relief didn’t last long as a snapping sound was heard. The trace was slowly giving out and Zelda panicked. There was only one thing that came to mind. The horse didn’t seem to notice anything amiss and followed the turn with the rest.

With shaking hands, Zelda held the reigns in her teeth and climbed onto the front of the chariot. She grasped onto the horse just in time for a bump to rock the wagon. Her eyes darted to the trace. There wasn’t time to pause.

Once she had climbed onto the horse’s back, her hands worked undoing the opposite support that held the wagon in place.

* * *

Zelda?

It was where his mind went when he heard a scream. Link’s head snapped back just in time to see Yoland batting away a longsword headed for the axel of his chariot.

There were already several people carried away on stretchers. Link had counted. The Gerudo politician was every bit more dangerous than he thought. When there was an opportunity to distract the man, it was only natural that he repaid the arrow that was shot at him earlier. It had given Yoland the chance to go after one of his wheels, but the leather trace had already been cut. Link was juggling with looking at the road ahead and the disaster waiting to happen behind.

Then, next thing he saw was Yoland riding on horseback beside him with the lost chariot rolling towards the inside of the track. To say the least, he was surprised. The horses didn’t have saddles and the man still held onto the reigns. That couldn’t have been comfortable.

Link didn’t dwell on it long. He had a race to win and the white flag told him this was the last lap. He whipped down the reigns and spurred the horse to run faster. Aside from Yoland, there were two men in front of him, one of which he passed. The stands thundered and he asked himself if the Princess knew this was happening. Something told him she would have hated this.

A chill slid down his spine and he had a feeling Ganondorf didn’t stray far behind.

He passed the last man and just barely reached Yoland before crossing the finish line.

Link could barely hear himself think. He stepped off the sorry excuse for a chariot and took a deep breath. Out of the corner of his eye, Yoland basically fell from the horse and laid on his back. Some medics came by but the man shoed them away.

“Are you still alive?” Link said as he stood over him.

“Yes, I just,” Yoland paused and closed his eyes. Letting his head drop back to the dirt he spoke again, “I just need a moment. I’m sorry, by the way.”

“Sorry?” Link echoed.

“Oh, yes,” his dark eyes met Link’s from the ground as an arrogant grin crossed his features, “You ate so much of my dust during that race.”

* * *

She tied the bath robe tightly at her waist, frustrated by its slipping ties. Her thighs ached. Who knew riding bareback on a horse could be so painful?

Zelda had been brushing out the knots from her hair and the thought of cutting it crossed her mind for a moment, but she relented. Impa would have a fit over her. The image of the woman’s reaction made her laugh and she wondered if the kingdom had ever had a short-haired queen.

A knock at the door cut through her fantasies.

“Yes?” Zelda called out idly. There wasn’t a reply and curiosity got the best of her.

With a sigh, she set down the hairbrush and crossed her bedroom. The quarters door was pulled open just enough where she could pop her head out and repeat her phrase, “Yes?”

The sight of Link was unexpected.

He stopped mid-sentence at her appearance. The two stayed frozen, staring, until Zelda breathed out an unsteady sentence, “I thought you were the maids.”

Footsteps sounded down the hall and Zelda’s brow furrowed. He shouldn’t be here. Oh, Hylia, he should not be here. The footsteps thundered louder. Link had the same alarm in his eyes as they darted back to her, so she made a decision. Zelda grasped the collar of his tunic and tugged harshly, pulling him inside and shutting the door with a quickness she didn’t know she was capable of.

They stood awkwardly close as the footsteps and the chattering of servants came and went.

“What are you doing?” Link hissed in a whisper. His voice sounded hoarse.

Zelda released him to cross her arms. “Trying to save us from more trouble. What are you doing?”

They were closer than she expected because her forearms brushed his abdomen. It was difficult to maintain a serious expression when her brain was becoming increasingly flustered.

Link mirrored her tone, “Yeah, it’ll save us a lot of trouble when someone finds me in your room with you half naked.”

She fumed, looked down to see that the silk robe had slid to reveal more cleavage than she meant to. It stopped at her knees. With a red face, she turned and yanked the fabric together. “Well,” the woman huffed irritably, “Well, do you have any better ideas?”

There was a pause. “No.”

Her slippers slid on the floor and she stepped away, folding her arms once more.

“So, what is it?” Her voice was thick, betraying her.

Link shrugged loosely, his hand reaching up to rub his neck. For the first time, she took a moment to take him in. He was wearing the same clothes from the race and dirt marred his cheeks. He wasn’t as tense as when speaking with Yoland and for a moment it felt like the tournament wasn’t happening. That she wasn’t about to battle with the court over her stake in power. Everything felt nearly normal again.

If she were to let herself forget her worries, it would be just like any old night of stealing away together to talk about their frustrations. No tenseness, no qualms, and the reassurance of his comforting presence. However, this wasn’t the same. There was an intensity in the air between them and the lingering implications of his whereabouts. Despite looking like a princess, Zelda’s subconscious clung to the frustrations Yoland had felt towards him. After all, it was difficult to separate the headspaces.

“I wanted to check to see if you were okay.”

“I,” her mouth spoke before her brain could process and she ended up copying his shrug. “As best as I can be, I suppose.”

He was frowning. “I’m sorry.”

Zelda’s eyes trailing to the floor and she kicked the air. There felt like an elephant in the room. She cocked her head to the side and peered up at him precariously, “I’ve heard you’ve been having quite a fun time recently.”

“No, I um,” Link laughed nervously, shaking his head as he diverted his gaze from her. “I don’t know about that.”

She pulled a lock of damp hair over her shoulder with a thin smile, “Sounds exciting. The ladies-in-waiting talk too much about it.”

Link seemed to be struggling with something. Zelda went to pester him. Bother him about why he was there. Why? The reason was obvious, but it felt artificial to break Link’s complexities down to simply wanting the throne. Instead, Zelda wanted to taunt him and distract herself from dissecting him further. Before she could do just that he spoke first.

“It just feels strange to not talk to a friend in over a week.”

Zelda’s parted lips froze in mid-jest and closed. Her breath seemed to catch as well because as Link looked at her. He was so genuine. His eyes were eased, almost sad. Guilt coiled in her stomach. She hadn’t thought of it that way. In her eyes, she had spoken to him. Fairly frequently at that. However, that wasn’t her, was it? Yoland wasn’t Zelda to Link. She hadn’t properly spoken to him since he had given her that ridiculous list.

Link cleared his throat loudly before she could offer an apology, “I’ll go.”

His hand was already on the door nob and her words in her throat. Not one had left her lips when he slipped out and left her alone again.

* * *

Impa flopped a stack of papers onto the bed as Zelda finished up her braid. The sky was still dark due to the early morning hours. She looked up questionably and before she could voice it, the advisor answered.

“They’re all covering your tournament,” she said idly, reaching behind the girl to smooth over loose ends of her locks. “Tabloids to political periodicals to entertainment magazines.”

She reached over to thumb through the first newspaper. An illustration covered the front page it was a recreation of Yoland and Link on those sorry excuses for chariots. They were dramatically glaring dagger at each other as they passed the finish line. She noticed they had missed the scar above Link’s eyebrow and made Yoland unnecessarily disheveled.

Zelda raised her eyebrows as she skimmed over the headline. Impa moved to fish an outfit from the Princess’s wardrobe, “They’re going crazy trying to find out who in Hyrule Yoland is and where you’ve been going during all this. The ministers are concerned, obviously, that their future king will either be an out of control soldier or a complete nobody.”

_The Hero of Hyrule Out-Bested by the Hero of Nothing?_

“They don’t like Link?” she yawned and set down the article. The attempt to sound nonchalant was flimsy. Impa had given her a look through the mirror.

The woman pursed her lips, “He’s not… well, he’s not a prince. There were talks about that Gerudo aristocrat. However, the public has always put Link on a pedestal. You know that.”

“The prime minister signed the agreement just as I was forced to,” Zelda said, not without a smile escaping. A thin veil of pink graced her cheeks. She wasn’t used to talking about Link like this. Not when he had a chance at being her husband within the next six months, and though this wasn’t the preferred situation her heart betrayed her mind with its incessant beating.

Impa hummed knowingly and laid out some clothes. Unsurprisingly, it was difficult to find masculine attire in a closet made for a princess. Thus, why she had worn the same drab outfit for the last two days.

The older woman gave Zelda a hard stare. “Today is not the day to mess up.”

“Which is precisely why I will not ‘mess up’,” she smiled lightly, pulling on a navy tunic. She always preferred to dress herself before the spell. Somehow it looked more complete that way; it made it where she wouldn’t have any last-minute doubts. “Besides, I’m sure it will be no more entertaining than fencing with how many restrictions the judges have added.”

The rules were made clear several times over. Though the tournament was publicized as being close to gladiatorial combat, there would be no killing and no excessive violence. Children would be present in the stands and, according to the court, it would be of bad taste otherwise. Weapons would be provided within the arena and the style of combat was dependent on the individual’s background. No doubt, this would create quite a spectacle for anyone in attendance. Anxiety gnawed at the Princess’s gut.

This was it.

There was one reason why they had woken up so early to prepare for the tournament. Impa had been tipped off that the ladies of the court would try to march up to Princess Zelda’s room under the pretenses of preparing to see her future fiancé. Her daily horseback rides as of late were dampening the dramatics apparently. The notion made her stomach churn and she was again reminded of her deep appreciation for the older woman who was now shooing her off through the glass-paned door.

The balcony attached to her room led to a walkway. That walkway ended in a series of spiraling steps to the castle garden. The perfect place for the Princess’s antics because with the longer summer days, the general gardening staff tended to arrive later. Zelda took her time this morning to walk through the various flower patches. It wasn’t common that time was found in the day to enjoy the garden and its many luxuries. Whenever she did manage that, it went towards preparing for tournament.

Even in the dim lighting from the castle torches, the rose bushes gave off a brilliant red. Her shoulders loosened and just for a moment the troubles of the near future faded from her mind. A heavy sigh filled her lungs and during the exhale the imaginary weight of her crown settled back in. Zelda willing herself to focus and waved a hand. It wasn’t possible to feel the masking spell, so she diligently watched her hands tan and her fingers become more calloused. Just to triple check, she pulled her newly blackened braid to the front.

Zelda’s ears quirked upward at the sound of shifting gravel and she stiffened. Thoughts raced through her mind of who it possibly could be. Impa was preparing an excuse to tell the court about her absence, so it couldn’t be her. A stray castle guard? It wasn’t impossible, but they rarely went farther from their posts on the wall. It was the best vantage point. The Princess silently ran through her excuses. Yoland Romerok secretly snooping around castle grounds. That wouldn’t paint the prettiest picture if he is found directly outside the Princess’s terrace.

Like any rational person caught in a criminalizing position, she froze. She froze with her head craned to the sound for about five minutes until a white fluff ball jumped out of a bush. The formidable Yoland nearly let out a high-pitched scream. Instead he put a hand to his chest with wide eyes. A nervous laugh escaped. Zelda’s perusal of the royal garden was cut short by a small white rabbit and opted to head towards the tournament site a little earlier this morning.

* * *

His mornings were like clockwork. Link woke up early, he grabbed food, and prepared himself for the day before anyone else had. But this morning was different. Instead, he sat up from his bed and stared at the wall in a state of dreariness. When he rationalized to himself that yes, last night did indeed happen, Link sunk back down into the covers and promptly pulled the sheets over his head.

His decision to ask of her well-being was born out of a deep seeded worry that something was wrong. Zelda had a nasty habit of voicing her every opinion. It hadn’t bothered him before, if anything it was entertaining to see. It meant that she trusted him enough to stay up at unholy hours of the night discussing seemingly mundane topics. And when those nights did come around, she spoke with such vigor and excitement. It had him hanging onto every word.

Now, it was different. Even when Link told himself time and time again that this was worth it, the cost of her words had affected him more than he cared to admit. Why did she have to open that door in the state she was in? The pink robe had barely reached her knees. Her hair was still wet from a bath and the expression on her face when he saw him made him forget the entire monologue he had rehearsed. It was another reminder that Zelda was gorgeous.

He could win this tournament, forget about giving her a choice, and be the luckiest man in history. A groan escaped him and he wanted nothing more than to blip out of existence at the thought. That was wrong. No, that was beyond wrong.

Link pushed himself from the bed and blindly felt around for an abandoned shirt. He mumbled incoherently and stumbled out of the guest room. Food somehow found his way to him, but now he felt sick. His early morning reflections had only frustrated himself more. As usual, there weren’t many people out and about. After all, it was summer. The days were long and it made the staff slower. It was something Link didn’t understand. He got up to beat the heat of the daytime, but he did enjoy the stillness to an otherwise busy hive of people.

The man stared at himself critically in the mirror. He looked like hell. Circles were beginning to appear under his eyes and the scowl on his face wasn’t helping matters either. After washing his face with hot water, he grabbed a razorblade and carefully ran it over his cheeks, shaving the stubble that was starting to appear.

Today would be it. It was the last day of the Queen’s Tournament, then it would be done. A sigh got caught in his throat. It wasn’t as easy as he expected it would be. His chances were slimmer, but that didn’t allow him to let an inkling of a doubt plant in his mind. There would be no if. _When_ he wins today, he’ll ask Zelda what she wants. And when she inevitably says to leave it’ll be all up to him.

Link quirked his lip to the side in the mirror. What would he do then? Maybe he’ll fake his own death and escape to Zora’s Domain. They’ve always been pretty indifferent to him over there. The hero left the bathroom and wandered to a closet.

He’d always hated living under a microscope. It felt like everyone in the capital had their own reasons for doing things. Never did they do favors without expecting something in return. Genuine people were a dime a dozen. Link’s hands paused their lacing. How ironic was it that the Princess just so happened to be one?

The halls were still empty as Link strode towards the back of the estate. The sky was getting a hint of color amongst the stars when his boots hit the white gravel of the garden. It was a nice contrast to the vibrant colors of the plants. Then, his thoughts paused with his feet.

There was someone else here. They had paused too. Link swore to himself. He had heard it. Several fleeting minutes went by and there was a little shape that jumped from the rose bushes, meters ahead of him. The person moved into view, staring at the rabbit with a whimsical expression. Link side-stepped behind a hedge of greenery, careful to avoid noise. With the retreating footsteps, he took a look around the hedge. A man with a long black braid. His eyes widened, momentarily flickering to the Princess’s terrace where a shadow moved within. Link’s brows knitted and willed himself not to confront Yoland.

“What the fuck?” he whispered.


	3. and You

The sun was just as relentless as it had been the days prior. This time, however, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky to give momentary reprieve. Zelda wondered if the masking spells also staved off the sun’s assault. The Princess was never the one to tan, but she hadn’t had an issue up until now. The present problem was the excessive sweat already dripping from Yoland’s forehead as the announcer rattled off rules that her attention span couldn’t afford.

There were three others in the open space. Lord Ganondorf was sizing up his decided opponent across from him, a man whose name slipped her mind. He was a sword smith for the castle armory, she remembered vaguely. She tried to recall where else she had seen his face, but the blue eyes from across the way burned holes through her. In an attempt to release nervous energy, she thumbed at the cuff of her sleeve and diverted her gaze to the ground.

Yoland hadn’t had the opportunity of speaking with Link this morning. Each contender was escorted to opposite entrances of the theater and ever since the awkward reintroductions were being said, the hero hadn’t stopped glaring at her. Even from so far away, the energy he directed at Yoland was beyond unwelcoming – it was borderline obsessive.

Zelda racked her brain for reasons why but came up short. There was some semblance of camaraderie yesterday when Link took the liberty of distracting Ganondorf. Even their brief exchange was amiable. Link had even smiled!

And a different encounter the night before… well, it hadn’t stopped plaguing her mind. The memory had slipped its way under her skin and to the very depths of her mind. Each time she closed her eyes to sleep that night she could only see the way he looked at her – wanting, needing, but unable to verbalize it.

But now it was as if that hadn’t occurred.

Dark brows drew towards each other. Maybe it was a guy thing? Something that Zelda couldn’t understand despite looking like one. That only worried her more.

Her attention drew to the choice of weapons that were laid in the center of the arena. She had already made up her mind of what to choose: The thin longsword in the middle. It looked light enough for her build, but long enough for a decent reach. It was also a weapon she had the most experience with. Lord Ganondorf would probably pick the desert saber – a long curved blade with a thick guard at the base. The blacksmith would probably choose a similar weapon with his stature being just as bulky as the lord.

“Gentlemen!” A deep yell echoed off the walls, “Thirty seconds!”

The unsuspected announcement jolted Zelda and her heart pounded in her chest as a group of women shouted her alias behind her. Then, the voice counted from ten.

Seven…

Five…

Three…

Two…

One…

Yoland lept off his back foot and sprinted forward. Wind rushed past his ears and the only sounds were of his heart and the dull yells from the stands. Sweat meshed with the leather gloves as a hand wrapped around the handle of the chosen blade. Yet, the sword wouldn’t rise from the clay. For a short moment, Zelda peered upward to see why she was suddenly shaded from the sun. Then, an elbow collided to the side of her head.

It happened in a split second, and the motion of her jerking brought the blade loose from under Link’s boot. She stumbled to her feet and struggled to steady her gaze. Link was parrying an onslaught from the Gerudo politician and to her left the blacksmith was making his way to her. The events caught up to her and she readied her stance, parting her feet evenly on the ground.

Before the man reached her, Ganondorf rushed him and barely gave Yoland a second glance. Rushed footsteps sounded off towards her and Yoland raised his blade just as Link crashed his own down. The sudden pressure on the thin metal made the smaller man sway, but he rebounded quickly.

Link moved wordlessly, but vigilant. It barely gave Zelda space to collect her thoughts because she was so preoccupied with watching his feet. With each step and slide, she flashbacked to their training and used his actions against him. The hero slowly grew frustrated with the little show of progress and bared harder into a slash towards Yoland who gritted his teeth in surprise.

The tip of the blade cut into the navy fabric of her tunic and Zelda knew she needed distance. Link could easily overpower her with such a heavy-weighted sword in this proximity. All he needed was to corner her.

Therefore, she took the moment to double back.

A cry rang out and the stands were shouting something that she couldn’t make out. It had apparently drew Link in as well as he lowered his weapon slightly to look over at the other two fighters.

Ganondorf had cut deeply into the arm of the blacksmith, who had dropped his weapon in pain. Blood ran down his arm and he screamed out again at the sight. Zelda looked between Link and the man for a moment, question invading her features. The only way for someone to drop out of the sparring was to admit surrender.

The lord was looking annoyed and stepped towards him. With the butt of his guard he brought it sharply upon the blacksmith’s crown and the man crumbled like a corpse. Yoland gasped involuntarily.

With dark eyes wide with alarm, Yoland turned towards his opponent. “He’s going to kill him.”

Link had almost turned his head to negate the statement, but as the Lord picked up the man’s head by his hair with the sword in his grasp there was a shout.

“Ganondorf, stop!” It was Link. His brow was creased and his defensive body language towards Yoland dropped to face the Gerudo man who was now looking irritated at the interruption. “You’re not to kill him!”

“And what’s to stop me?” The man grimaced.

This time, Yoland spoke, “He has obviously surrendered!”

Ganondorf tilted his head to the side. As a taunting motion, he leaned down to the blacksmith as if he were listening intently. “I’m afraid he has nothing to say!”

Link looked at Yoland, a glint in his eye. In that short moment, an unspoken agreement was made. They’d take care of their business with each other after this immediate threat was dealt with.

Yoland gave a short nod before addressing the aristocrat again, “I won’t let you harm him again.”

The Gerudo snorted, “You? The hero wannabe I could understand, but you? Laughable at best.”

Yoland winced as the unconscious body of the blacksmith crashed into the ground once more. He approached slowly, wiping the thick blood from the peak of the blade. Lord Ganondorf was a large man in both stature and demeanor. Even the few armored men that stood at the entrance closest to them waited idly. Again, Link met his eyes and he motioned towards the group. If they could disarm or incapacitate Ganondorf, they’ll interfere. But until then…

Ganondorf sauntered over, leering at the two smaller men. His yellow eyes intensified under the sun and Yoland narrowed his own.

“Don’t look so fearful. Aren’t you the man that could cross realms? How has life been like since giving up that Master Sword for the cozy retirement life of being the Princess’s lapdog?”

Link was the first to make a move. His sword harshly met the politician’s own which knocked him off balance. Before the Gerudo could react to the aggression, Yoland went to slash at the wrist that supported the blade. A fist collided into Yoland’s stomach, air fled from his lungs and his body crashed to the floor. The raven-haired man gaped for air. The aristocrat’s boot kicked into Yoland’s midsection, robbing him of recovery. A wounded wheeze escaped him.

A pair of boots appeared before him and Ganondorf was forced back. There were short exchanges as Yoland came to his knees.

“Always in the way, aren’t you Hero?” The Gerudo spat.

Link held his own, “Only yours. No need to get jealous.”

“It doesn’t matter what they call you,” the lord grunted as Link brought his blade down. “You’ll always be a peasant worthy of only pity in her eyes. This won’t change anything.”

Yoland stood now, breathing shallowly. Internally, he hoped the aches were temporary. Ganondorf had his back to him now, facing Link instead. The latter doing a show of enrapturing the large man in conversation.

With a gulp, Yoland left his weapon in the dust and ran forward. He wrapped a forearm around the man’s neck and tightened the hold with the opposite arm. He yelled out Link’s name with hurry in his voice.

As the arms around his neck tightened, the politician raised his blade with the inability to shout. Link reacted by hitting the blunt of his sword into Ganondorf’s dominant hand. The weapon fell, and hands swiped at Yoland who felt the world turn sideways.

The guards that previously hung to the side approached now, prying the oversized man off with handcuffs in their grasp. Too busy choking on air, Ganondorf spat curses and shouts. Just past the disarray, Zelda sighed in relief at seeing the assaulted blacksmith coming to.

“That was unpleasant,” Yoland said, dusting off his trousers. Link didn’t reply and Yoland saw why. The glint in his eye was gone, replaced with distaste once more. With eyebrows raised in alarm, he fumbled for his weapon as Link came towards him.

Zelda within was beside herself. The ally she saw in him wasn’t in front of her anymore and his expression was jarring, but she couldn’t linger on it for long. It wasn’t time for Zelda, she needed Yoland to be present.

He searched the opposite man’s face, “Can’t we breathe for a moment?”

“Why were you in the garden?” Link snarled, lunging towards him.

Yoland deflected the attempted blow. Surprise met his features and his heart pounded adrenaline. It had occurred to Zelda that it was Link that made a noise in the garden this morning. Her heart lurched in her chest, but by his demeanor he hadn’t seen her until after casting the spell. If she had waited any longer he would have known.

Yoland didn’t display Zelda’s worries, instead he grinned. “Private matters.”

Staying spry on his feet, Yoland watched Link’s footwork and matched it. It was clear Link wanted answers because he was being easy on her, like when they trained. The only difference being that he meant to injure instead of teach.

Speaking of Link, he looked beyond irritated, “What does that mean? Why were you outside Zelda’s terrace?”

She didn’t mean to laugh, but it came out anyway. It was easy to voice what one could gather from the awkward predicament. “What’s it to you? Maybe we have a thing going on.”

The look on his face confirmed his assumptions. Zelda regretted her words, but it was too late. Whatever preconceived notion he had conjured was confirmed. He lowered his sword for a moment, his head tilted in disbelief.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You probably shouldn’t,” Yoland took the opportunity to aim his own blade at Link who blocked it at the last second. They were caught in a stalemate.

“You never told me why you were here,” Yoland grunted out, struggling against Link’s added pressure.

“Do you really want to know? Or are you just trying to distract me?” Link said as his opponent side-stepped out of the stalemate and Link slashed his blade through the air. The move reminded him of something he couldn’t pinpoint.

Zelda knew she couldn’t beat him in strength. Again, she had to find distance and escape somehow, “Humor me.”

She crouched to kick at his feet. Perhaps if he trips, she could disarm him. The action didn’t follow through and he dove to the side. He stood straight, breathing heavily. Courage stirred in Zelda to see that she had kept him going for this long. Link shook his head in exasperation, “I just want to give her a choice.”

Yoland guarded himself, but his brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“When I win,” Link cracked a prideful grin, “I’ll ask her what she wants.”

Their blades clashed again. Yoland blinked as if his statement didn’t register. “What if she says no?”

He didn’t unlock his eyes from his opponent. The blond hair stuck to his forehead now and his breath came in short pants.

“I’ll leave. Or whatever she wants me to do. I thought about faking my death to get out of this place. Would be nice to see the mountains this time of year.”

A bitter laugh came from the black-haired man, “You’re bluffing.”

But he wasn’t and Yoland’s laughter settled to silence. “You’re joking, right?”

“No. I thought about it for a long time,” Link plainly said. As if it were nothing. Zelda felt nauseous. Her face felt like fire and the heat wasn’t helping.

“S-so,” Yoland fumbled backward, their blades parted as Zelda scrambled to get a grasp of what he was saying. He didn’t really want to marry her? With surprised eyes, Yoland ducked at a sudden slash towards him. Eventually, she found her voice, “What if she said yes? What would you do, Link?”

Link frowned. He acted as if he didn’t understand. Reason fought through her flustered mind and she narrowed in on her advantageous situation. Yoland kept eye contact but bared down on his left foot and swung with all his might near the hilt of his sword. Link hadn’t expected it because his blade flew out of his hand. Yoland’s foot hit him squarely on the chest and kicked him backward, the man toppled over.

Yoland cleared his throat, breathing heavily now as he looked down at the bewildered hero. “What would you do?”

“I’m not stupid,” Link coughed, but reacted by grabbing the ankle of the unsuspecting man. “I’d marry her if she wanted me.”

Zelda yelped as her back hit the ground. Reflex brought her right arm inward along with the sword. It ended up below Link’s neck who looked precariously between it and Yoland’s eyes. He slowly backed up and Yoland didn’t move to stop him. It was Zelda’s head that was spinning.

She stood and met him as he retrieved his weapon. They were both out of breath. Link froze for a moment. He took a step closer and stared.

“What?” Zelda breathed out, turning to see what was behind her. There was nothing but open air. “What?” She repeated. With an arm raised she attacked where he parried lamely. The sword fell to the dirt.

His expression was indescribable, then he grinned.

“Link,” she was getting frustrated, “This isn’t funny.”

Link was laughing now. “You win.”

Zelda cocked her head to the side, “What are you- Stop it!” She stomped her foot on the ground, but it didn’t stop him.

The man looked towards the tower where the announcer was and shouted, “I forfeit!”

Then, Zelda noticed the quietness in the stands. With a glance at her hands, she understood why. Her masking spell had slipped. Her hands were no longer had the tan callousness of a man. They were pale and the only imperfections were the scrapes and bruises of today. She dropped her weapon and reached back to grab her braid. The locks were blonde.

“The…” the announcer seemed to step away and was speaking to another person, “The winner of the Queen’s Tournament is… Princess Zelda?”

The crowd irrupted in mayhem.

* * *

“Ridiculous.”

“It’s for show, Zelda. He’ll be used as an example. He won’t be convicted.”

Zelda pointed at the one of the fabric pieces a maid held out. They were the same hues of blue, but evidently to the designer they were not. With a shake of her head she spun around to Impa, “How was he supposed to know and why wasn’t I told?”

“For your protection. Your coronation is a week away and-”

The Princess sputtered, “My protection? He’s supposed to be the one helping to protect me!” She stomped around the advisor with fire in her eyes, angrily picking out goblets for the celebration.

“They put Link Forester behind bars for threatening me with a weapon,” her eyes were wide with disbelief and Zelda spoke breathlessly. “How am I supposed to put up with that? I am the acting queen and they went over my head.”

Impa sighed, exhausted. “They aren’t thrilled with your… display. You know that. We are down to days before a properly crowned monarch ascends to the throne after two years of absence. The ministry will pull every trick to disgruntle you before they no longer can.”

A deep flush crept up Zelda’s neck. It was born from a sudden frustration and the thought of Link. She hadn’t seen him since the tournament. They were barely able to speak a sentence until she was dragged away to be assessed for injury.

Zelda had never been opposed to marriage, if anything she was annoyed with the idea of match making made on another’s part. She wanted to be in control of her life and if that meant wanting a man in it, then it will happen. Being of royalty, she learned early on that the criticisms and judgements of others had to be isolated from her own or else she’d be a vessel for others to control.

She cleared her voice, turning back to her mentor. “Where is he?”

“The holding cells,” Impa said before realizing her mistake, but it was too late and the Princess had already brushed by her.

* * *

You know, Link thought to himself, It could be worse.

Sure, the floor was cold and the only place to sleep was on a wool blanket with a myriad of holes. And the bathroom wasn’t the cleanest, but the soldiers he did know brought a generous amount of food for his meals and sometimes a maid came by with extra blankets. So yes, Link supposed it could be worse.

He had heard from rumors that they tried to have Zelda abdicate after the tournament, but once it went public there were protests in the streets. Borderline riots, from what he heard from one stationed guard.

“Good,” was all he had replied. Because it was. There was no one’s approval Zelda cared more about than her peoples’. Link knew she felt bolstered by that and no doubt her attitude towards the House of Lords and Ministers worsened. Now, they were saying her coronation was next week.

The tournament itself was two weeks ago now. He tried to say something to Zelda before they parted, but there was nothing that could prepare him for her presence. When her blade was touching his throat, he had watched her eyes change from dark to light. It was, to say the least, a shocking moment. It was no wonder how Yoland matched his footwork so well, but it was also obvious that she had practiced beyond what he had seen. Link was proud and maybe a little embarrassed by the things he had said to her throughout the tournament.

They had arrested him only a couple days ago under the pretense of attempted treason, which confused him to no end. He was actually on his way to pack for an escape, but there wasn’t much he could do about several armed castle guards storming into his room in the middle of the night. So, here he was waiting for a trial, which could take weeks if the court wanted it that way.

Link looked up from his place on the floor towards the stairs that led to the holding cells. There sounded like an argument occurring outside. The door opened and more shouting. His ears twitched up at the voice.

“Do you know who I am?” There was a clanking that rattled down the stairs and a sword landed at the foot. Another clinking was heard being wrestled with.

“Your Grace, please! I can’t allow you-”

Light steps bounded down the stairs and a form appeared, her colorful skirts were hiked up above her ankles and her head was turned to interrupt.

“You can’t allow me to what? See my own subjects? Remind me, sir, who did you swear your allegiance to?”

Zelda had the same effect on him as she always has. She stole his breath away and her casual beauty forever enraptured him. The Princess didn’t have her crown on today, meaning there weren’t any public appearances. Her blonde hair spilled down her shoulders and she was impossibly perfect. Now, she was muttering her grievances and taking care to step over the fallen blade. She scanned the cells until her eyes rested on him.

Zelda paused in her steps.

Link found his voice, “What are you doing here?”

She walked over slowly with a ring of steel keys in her grasp. Zelda looked thrown off, as if she was shocked to see him. “I- What are you doing here?”

“Well, I am incarcerated for harming the crown,” he jested. Zelda’s frown deepened and she fiddled with the keys, beginning to test them in the lock that separated them.

Link came to his feet and met her at the door. Concern flooded his mind, “What are you trying to do, Zelda?”

“I’m trying to get you out. This is stupid.”

He reached his hands through the bars and stopped her own. Their eyes met and he watched her brow crease in confusion. “You’re getting into trouble and you’re not even queen yet.”

“I’d rather be in trouble then leave you in here under false pretenses,” she said, looking up at him with an annoyed expression. But behind her eyes was a tinge of sadness.

He smiled softly at her, “If you wait a week, you can pardon me yourself.”

“No! I… I want you there.”

Link looked thrown off by her comment. “That’s nice, Zel, but-”

“Were you telling the truth at the tournament?” She searched his eyes desperately. Her cheeks were reddening.

He blinked in confusion, she was talking fast, and he could barely keep up, “What?”

“Two weeks ago. After Lord Ganondorf was dragged off the field. Were you telling the truth?”

Her hands grasped around his and Link felt his heart jump in his chest. Her head was just barely resting on the bars and he wanted nothing but to make whatever was causing her distress to go away.

“Which part?” His lips quirked upward ever so slightly. “I only remember talking to a man with a peculiar name.”

“Link!” He heard her stomp her foot like she did then. “I’m serious!”

Link’s forehead touched to cold bars as he watched her frantic eyes and he wondered briefly why. Now the comparisons between the untrustworthy man and Zelda made sense. It was a wonder to him that he hadn’t figured it out, but if Link were honest with himself, he was never the type of man to draw logical conclusions with someone like Zelda involved. She was horribly intoxicating.

With a heavy breath he spoke, “About why I was there?”

She nodded slowly and he felt like he couldn’t breathe with such big eyes on him. He didn’t feel like this against Zant. Sure, he was nervous. But Zelda was different. She was beautiful, strong, and unbelievably stubborn.

“You’d been dragging your feet for the days and weeks leading up to it. Sadness and anger don’t suit you well, Zelda. Of course I was telling the truth,” Link smiled softly.

Her breath caught and Link thought he had said something wrong. Before he went to apologize, Zelda spoke up, “Marriage. W-what about being married? To me?”

“Marriage?” He leaned back to get a full look at her. Zelda’s face was blotched in red and she watched his reaction with wide eyes, “I’m sorry! I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…”

“Being married to you?” Link said again, his smile wavered, “Zelda, a man wouldn’t be a man if he didn’t dream about being with the most beautiful woman in Hyrule at least once.”

She looked expectant, but nervous. Her voice was uneven and her eyes never straying. “Even you?”

Link had to steady himself from doing anything rash. Her lips were so close and he thanked the goddesses for the bars separating them, though if she leaned closer…

“Yes,” his voice dipped low, “Especially me.”

He leaned down, watching her reaction as he did. She didn’t move and he couldn’t control his composure without her pushing him away. A part of Link wanted her to do just that, tell him no, or move back to give him some indication that what he was doing was wrong. But despite his silent rationale slipping away, she did none of those things.

Instead, she waited for him with eyes flickering to his lips. Without a moment longer, Link eagerly pressed his lips onto hers and they were softer than he ever fantasized about. Her hands traveled upwards to his forearms until they were stopped by the bars. She breathed deeper into the kiss and Link was convinced she was a drug he’d forever be addicted to.

Far too soon, she pulled away and without catching her breath she spoke breathlessly, “I love you. Marry me.”

Between being dazed by her kiss and her words, he felt light-headed. The world passed by him as he stared dizzily at the woman who waited timorously.

“I love you- wait, what?” He felt like passing out.

“Marry me?”

“But what about your coronation?”

She shook her head, “I don’t care.”

“Your cabinet, the ministers, the people?”

Again, she shook her head fervently as Link stared bewildered at the woman before him.

“I don’t care about them. I know what I want and I want you.”

He couldn’t stop the beating in his chest and the smile that painted across his lips. Despite the whirlwind of weight being dropped onto him and slowly coming to the fact that this may be the single most important moment in his life, doubt gnawed at him. His eyes searched the ground and his palms grew sweaty.

“Zelda, are you sure you want me? I… Everything Ganondorf said wasn’t all false.”

“I’ve never been surer about anything than I am right now,” she spoke with a steady voice. Even had he lied to himself and refused her hand, there wasn’t a power in this world to keep Zelda’s stubbornness from winning. “Though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“You do have the keys, love.”

She stared at him for a moment. “I thought that meant getting in trouble, Link.”

“I believe we’ve surpassed trouble at this point.”

“Fair point,” she nodded, laughing lightly until she managed to shove a key into the lock. The rusty hinges creaked as the door opened. Link brushed a hand through his hair, “You know the implications of me marrying you, right?”

“I know, and frankly I think you’ll do fine,” she smiled as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’m just a goat herder from South Hyrule. I can’t offer much. I don’t even have a ring,” Link beamed at her with pure adoration in his eyes.

Zelda hummed, “I don’t mind.” Her smile dropped, “You never said yes.”

Link grinned wryly, his lips already itching for another kiss. “Yes. Yes one-hundred times over to marry you.”


End file.
